


Making Conversation

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-01
Updated: 2010-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyday interaction between Sansa and the Hound. Set during ACoK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Conversation

The Hound's mood turned darker when Sansa maneuvered to walk on his right, away from the burn scars that covered the left side of his face, but he said nothing. Sansa was both relieved and anxious. The last time he'd been so restrained had been after Robb's victory in the westerlands, when Joffrey had been so angry he'd had his Kingsguard knights beat her and tear her clothes off in front of everyone. There had been no more beatings since the Imp stopped that last one, but as Joffrey didn't even listen to his mother, Sansa didn't expect him to heed his uncle for very long. She tried to think what she might have said or done to anger him.

"Joff's in high spirits today," the Hound said. "He's been passing sentence on merchants who couldn't keep their mouths shut."

Sansa knew that meant Joffrey had been ordering maimings and executions. He enjoyed watching men die at his command and it usually put him in a good mood. It was awful, but it meant he probably wouldn't pick on her too much today. Feeling more relaxed, she searched for something to say to the Hound. "I heard His Grace's cousin Tyrek will soon wed Lady Ermesande."

"You heard true. It should be more entertaining than any mummer's farce."

Tyrek Lannister was actually Queen Cersei's cousin, but he was the same age as King Joffrey, thirteen, while Lady Ermesande Hayford was a mere infant. She was the last living member of the Hayford family, though, and wedding her would give Tyrek lordship of the Hayford lands. Sansa didn't know which of them to pity more. "It's…" The Hound was famous for his loyalty to the Lannisters; Sansa didn't want to criticize them. "It's not very romantic."

"Not _romantic_, no. Lady Tanda's looking for a husband for that lackwit daughter of hers. That won't be _romantic_ either."

"Has she found a suitor?"

"Littlefinger eats her food, but he has no intention of shackling himself to Lollys. Tanda's after the Imp now." He chuckled. "A dwarf and a lackwit sow, what a sight that would be."

Once Sansa had counted the day she was betrothed to Joffrey among the happiest days of her life. She'd dreamed of their wedding and how perfect and beautiful it would be. Now marrying Joffrey was the last thing she wanted. Knowing it could be worse, that she might have had to marry an infant, or a lackwit, or a dwarf instead wasn't much comfort. _Think of something good_, she told herself. There would probably be lemoncakes at Tyrek's wedding feast…

"Careful," the Hound said. He grabbed Sansa's shoulder, stopping her just short of a muddy puddle. "I haven't got time to take you back to change."

She was about to walk around the mud when the Hound put his hands on her waist. He picked her up and lifted her neatly over the puddle. Sansa's heart continued to beat fast after he'd set her down. He was very strong. There was a strange feeling in her tummy. She plodded forward, her head down.

The Hound grabbed her jaw and forced her to look up at him. "You're forgetting your courtesies, girl." His lips were twisted in an ugly smirk. "You didn't thank me. What would your septa say – if she still had a head to talk."

"Thank you, my lord," Sansa said, though she really wanted to tell him something else for mocking her.

"Good little bird. She chirps on command." He laughed and let go of her.

"You're very unkind."

He stopped and threw back his head, roaring with laughter. Servants and soldiers milling about the yard gave them curious looks. Sansa held her head high and waited for the Hound to finish laughing at her.

"Everyone's unkind," he said, as they continued on their way to the great hall. "Some people just hide it. Those are the ones you should be afraid of most."

That couldn't be true. Nearly everyone had been kind back home at Winterfell. But Sansa conceded that it could be true of King's Landing. People here weren't very nice. They'd treated her well when her father had been King Robert's Hand, but that had all changed when Lord Eddard was arrested as a traitor and it had gotten worse after he was executed.

She supposed people were all unkind in the westerlands too. That's why the Hound was unkind and thought everyone else was, because no one had saved him from his evil brother Ser Gregor. It made sense that the westerlands were so bad. The Lannisters ruled there and they were the worst. Joffrey and Queen Cersei had killed her father, Ser Jaime had killed her father's men, and Lord Tywin had ravaged her Tully grandfather's lands. Tyrion Lannister might have stopped Joffrey from having his Kingsguard beat her, but Sansa knew he must have done something dreadful for her lady mother to have kidnapped him.

"Sansa! You missed seeing me dispense justice."

She'd been eager to be away from the Hound, but now that she was in Joffrey's presence, Sansa wanted to hide behind him. _Courtesy is a lady's armor._ Septa Mordane had told her that a hundred times. She curtsied before Joffrey and made herself smile at him. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. I'm sure you were as wise and just as King Jaehaerys."

"Is he the one who lived a really long time?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Good Queen Alysanne was his wife."

"Do you think they'll call her Good Queen Sansa, dog? I think they'll call her _Stupid_ Queen Sansa!"

Her eyes stung, but Sansa fought not to let the tears flow. _I am stupid - for ever loving him._

"They'll call her whatever you want," the Hound answered. "Personally I wouldn't want a wife called stupid."

"Do you hear that?" Joffrey crowed. "Not even my dog would have you for a wife. You're lucky my father betrothed me to you."

Sansa felt sure Joffrey had misunderstood the Hound's meaning. He was the stupid one. She felt better. "I know I'm lucky, Your Grace. I hope one day I'll be worthy of you."

"Maybe," Joffrey said, "If you're very obedient. Come sit next to me."

Sansa sat beside him. She let her mind wander as courtiers came forward to flatter the king and be insulted by him. Perhaps Ser Arys would escort her back to her bedchamber instead of the Hound. He didn't scare her and he knew better gossip.


End file.
